


Ephemeron

by sphaerae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Afterlife, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore - Freeform, Angst and Tragedy, Apollo and Daphne Myth, Death, Don't copy to another site, Dreamsharing, Exegol (Star Wars), F/M, He loves you pls just remember him, Mention of suicide ideation, Metamorphosis, Purple Prose, Underworld, or a variation thereof, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphaerae/pseuds/sphaerae
Summary: ***VITA SOMNIUM BREVELife is but a brief dream.***
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6
Collections: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas: the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology





	Ephemeron

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for [The 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/RFFAToRapturetheEarthandtheSeas). The theme of the year was "forces of nature", and I decided to examine this intriguing topic via the idea of metamorphosis. So, here's a little story about change that takes place in the dreamy liminal space between life and death. It portrays one bittersweet day in the realms of afterlife where two star-crossed lovers gravitate towards each other amid the earth, the sea and the sky.
> 
> My warmest thanks to all RFFA mods who made the anthology possible and allowed me this chance to write my very first fic. Especially you, Vivien & Celia, thank you for your patience and help in editing this piece.
> 
> I've drawn rather heavily on ancient myths when conceiving this story. If you are interested in these references, please see the end of the fic for more notes. Great pieces of music have also served as inspiration for writing the individual chapters. I've embedded the links into the text if you like to listen to them. I don't own any rights to these videos - many thanks to those talented people who have created and uploaded them on Youtube.

A BREATH OF PRAYER

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/DRsnMGA5H1k)

Lightning ends and shadows fall. Only hollow silence echoes through the vaults of the murky throne room. She lies on her side on the rocky ground that breathes in the pulse of the crumbling, dying planet. The taste of salt and iron doesn’t shock her at all. It’s the darkness that frightens her to the bone.

Her eyes are open, but she can’t see. _Let me have the last glimpse of the stars, of the lights of those who have passed before me_ , she beseeches, but her prayers fly unanswered to mute skies. 

Emptiness expands inside her mind, and she decides to embrace the sensation. She has already given every spark of her life force to this citadel of evil arts and its ravaging ruler. She sighs in relief. That blood-stained mouth can no longer summon her as his kin and heir. This is her grandfather’s final grave. 

When her limbs grow cold and numb, she realises that this place is also a mausoleum of another kind. Her heart shall be buried here, beneath decaying debris. She hopes that it will moulder next to the man who came to her aid at her most desperate hour. His stern, determined face floods her memory. He stood beside her, lithe and strong. A sob escapes from her parted lips. If she had been able to crawl even just an inch, she would have thrown herself into the same, bottomless pit that devoured him into its gaping jaws. 

A pang of anger hits her, hard, and she makes a vain attempt to move her legs. Soon, she relinquishes the instinct and lies still. That voracious abyss took him, just when he had found his true self. And her.

_You mighty gods of these endless wars_ , she begs when her chest heaves for the last time, _be satiated with the offerings we so unwillingly gave you. Allow this avid terrain to drink our crimson libation and release our spirits into purer upper airs._

Then, with a gentle exhalation, she leaves the site of blood and sorrows.

* * *

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/NiGfXpWt3dk)

The air that fills this sombre plane quivers against her translucent shade. All colours are drained from a world of bleak hills and toneless riversides. Not a single ray of sunlight illuminates the wailing fields, nor do the stars favour the sky with benevolent brightness.

She sees other beings like her. Pale, insubstantial umbrae dressed in grey robes who flit listlessly by, stretching their arms over meandering rivers. None of these apparitions has a recognisable face. She wants to call them by the names she once knew, to see if they would respond, but the words don’t come out of her mouth.

_No matter how long I stay here, in this timeless Netherworld, no matter how many lines I inscribe into the records of my mind, they are never coming back_. 

A surprising urge to return to the place she reluctantly called her home gnaws at her. So often did she curse sultry desert heat and glittering dunes without realising how they served as fuel for her soul. That stark beauty is still the essence of her being, not this dull monotony of temperate winds and grey, stultifying vistas.

As if sensing her musings, a playful breeze pushes her in the direction of a secluded grove on the left side of the valley. Unable to resist the gentle guidance, she lands under a copse of tall, shimmering trees, their low-hanging branches covering her like a lover’s arms. She has never seen trees like these. Being all white, they seem to resemble living entities, their twisted roots slithering on the rocks and their silver-coloured leaves suspiring in the wind. Shining light particles fall down from their branches to form piles of metallic dust on the dark grey soil. 

Her shade flutters ahead and halts by a bubbling spring that flows from the bottom of a small dark cavern. The entrance is almost hidden by a host of white flowers that reminds her of giant nightblossoms in their full bloom. Unexpectedly, the breeze that carried her there shakes the fragile stems, creating a cascading waterfall of snowy petals that colour the water with milky shades. Intoxicating scent fills the air and silvery leaves sing. _Ameles potamos_ , they seem to say, their whispers making her ears ring. She looks up, but the faces she thought she saw in the trees have disappeared. 

The murmur of rippling water lulls her into a sweet drowsiness, and she bends herself slowly over the stream of floating flowers. The water is cool under her probing fingers as she tries to clear the surface in order to see her reflection looking back at her. Only the depths of impenetrable darkness meet her focused stare, mesmerising her to forget the bizarre experience of not having a reflection with tangible features in this land of dreams and shadows. 

A winding vortex inside the pool is spellbinding. She can’t even blink.

_If I dive deep enough, I can be free of this pain in my heart_. 

She stretches her arms wide and plunges her head underneath the black liquid. The acidic taste of fresh blood slashes her mouth, but she keeps swallowing the water, relishing it as if it was sweet nectar moistening the parched lips of a desert dweller. 

A kaleidoscope of images flickers painfully across her mind’s eye before each fervid gulp forces the offending visions away. They turn into evanescent bubbles, melting into dark depths. She lets them all go, those faces that she can no longer see, those places where she can no longer be. It suddenly dawns on her why the shapeless apparitions inhabiting this valley are so desperate to seek the river banks. She, too, wants to drink herself into forgetfulness. Everyone she has ever loved is gone.

She feels like she is drowning. White petals swell into mangled, fleshy chunks of soft tissue that fill her nostrils and block up her airways. She gasps for air mainly for the sake of an old habit, a convenience defined by her past existence, which makes sense to follow now, at this moment of uncanny absolution. After she sinks her head below the underwater darkness again, she wonders whether a second death is possible in this space where the shades carry only semblances of their former, living bodies. 

She is almost there, beyond the horizon of memory, when she hears a voice inside the pool. 

_Cease your pursuit here,_ it tells her in a stately tone. _You are a child of solid terrains and starry heavens in search of clarity and vision. Know that also your bloodline was once one with the Force. Do not discard that legacy by seeking futile oblivion_. 

She stops abruptly, trying to resist the heady pull of turbid waters, almost purple now, by holding her breath as growing panic seizes her brain. She used to obey that voice, calling its owner a master of an ancient art. It is difficult to focus on those words when the whirlpool hums in her ears and the eager fingers of swirling waters drag her deeper into the black vortex. 

_Rey, no one is ever truly gone. Just cling to your memories and let him come to take you–_

The voice breaks all of a sudden as she surrenders herself to the surging stream of fitful sleep and shapeless dreams.

* * *

THE EMBRYO

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/_Smqz6_0ibk)

Shining motes of light dust fall over her face. The rancid smell of burned carrion reeks in her nostrils, choking her. She sneezes. 

Her eyes fly open to see the first colours of the early morning sky. Retreating night loosens its grip on the heavens as the planetary sun begins its daily chariot-ride across the equator, sprinkling rosy hues over high clouds. A silhouette of a convor darts from the south and wheels three times across the silent skies.

Discarding her worries at the sight of such an auspicious omen, she stretches her arms languorously above her head and smiles at this glorious threshold of a new dawn. Surely nothing could go wrong on a day like this, not when the winged herald of good fortune blesses her with its rare appearance. 

Her yawn stops short at the realisation that she is lying half buried in silken sand that surrounds her like a cocoon. She frowns.

_Perhaps that bird was not a lucky sign, after all._

Her body under all those layers of arid soil feels sore and raw. Her chest is on fire. 

Dry wind muffles her muttered curses as she digs herself slowly out of the golden heap. Even this light exertion causes her body to shake as if she was a new-born steelpecker taking its first steps outside its nest. Her eyes widen in surprise when she observes the play of light on her naked, strangely pale skin.

A hasty glance around tells her that her clothes and quarterstaff are missing. 

_Stars_. _Have I been sleepwalking again?_

She turns to face the eastern light as she stands on her wobbling legs. She has no wounds or bruises, but shining dust stains her fingertips when she touches her flanks in search of broken ribs. She shrugs to dispel her amazement. Pragmatism has always helped her. If she simply rests for a while, she can soon walk back to her desert home. 

Her gaze roams over the harsh terrain, and she smiles. This is her realm, this fiery wilderness where shifting sands dance under her quick feet. She knows these dunes so well that she can name and claim them as her own. Here’s Pilgrim’s Path and there Spinebarrel Hill, and every grain residing therein addresses her as its mistress. Her toes curl against warm sand. Sunshine strokes her cheeks, affirming her right to rule this small corner of the whole wide world. 

A sudden breeze tugs her free-flowing hair, warning her of youthful, unfounded hubris. Then, a floating cloud hides the sun and casts a long shadow over her little universe. A shiver runs down her spine and the skin of her back crawls, alerting her to danger. She is afraid to look behind her shoulder. 

_Monsters come from the west_. _They live in the lands of the death where the flaming disk of the setting sun is never allowed to touch the forbidden shores_. 

Instead of whirling around quickly like a cricket, she freezes and pricks her ears in the manner of a timid skittermouse, every muscle vibrating in fear and anticipation. She hears a quiet whisper. It is like an echoing cry rising from a bottomless pit.

“Be with me.” 

Her breath stops in her chest. She has heard those words before, somewhere in her dreams. Strange, familiar words that hold a sense of heightened urgency. They scare her. She is young, and happy, and wild, and she doesn’t want to be scared. But she has no choice. She turns warily around, biting her lower lip in hesitation. 

A man emerges from a puff of falling light dust and stops in his tracks on the other side of the sandbar.

His sudden intrusion into her private world startles her, and she wants to close her eyes. _Perhaps he’s just a mirage. Or a product of my imagination, an imaginary friend to alleviate my loneliness_. 

She glances again, wringing her sweaty hands. _No, he’s still there, and he’s alive_. 

Curiosity overcomes her fear. Unmindful of her nakedness, she tilts her head and assesses him critically. He is no inhabitant of this poor desert planet. Not when he makes such a commanding presence with his black billowing cowl and dark dishevelled hair framing his haughty face. He is even paler than her beneath the pink shade creeping up towards his pointed ears. 

The look in his eyes haunts her. He seems to be willing to devour her, all of her, even though he does his utmost to keep his gaze focused on her face. Her cheeks redden under his piercing stare, and she crosses her arms chastely over her breasts. 

He swallows hard and holds his slightly shaking hand out to her. “Rey, please. Come with me.” 

She looks at his leather gloves, puzzled. They look awfully impractical in this hot weather. Ignoring his pleading gesture, she shakes her head petulantly. “Did you steal my clothes?”

He clears his throat. Twice. “What? No.”

She looks at him suspiciously. He lowers his gloved hand and balls it into a fist. The blush on his cheeks is most becoming. Finally, he composes himself under her scrutiny and flashes her a wry smile, his eyes making a furtive glance over her nudity.

“No,” he says again in a steadier voice. “That kind of theft would occur only in my own dreams.”

_Blast it_. The naughty man has been watching her from behind the dunes, she can tell. How odd that the unnerving realisation doesn’t bother her as much as it should.

She keeps watching him attentively. “Where did you come from?”

An absent-minded expression crosses his face. “I climbed.”

She frowns. There are no mountains on this planet. “Are you here with good intentions?”

He shrugs the question off. “That’s for you to decide.”

_That probably means no_. She knows she shouldn’t be this inquisitive, it’s rather rude and all, but she simply can’t help it. “Are you a monster?”

He keeps his suddenly alert eyes glued to her face. “You once thought so.”

_Riddles_. She can’t handle riddles very well. “Are you dead?”

He stares at her sadly, all mockery gone from his low voice. “No, but you are.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief. This is not funny anymore. He’s a kriffing killer. Or a slave trader. Probably both. She takes a cautious step back. 

“I’m very much alive,” she spits out angrily. “I’m a survivor. Free. And I’m going to stay that way.”

She can hear his patience snap. He runs his hand through his thick hair, leaving a few disarrayed locks on his forehead. _He has clearly done that often, lately._

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn? Do we really have to do this in the hard way?” he questions her as if speaking to a simple-minded child. 

She makes him a face. 

“I was expecting a yes,” he sighs gravely and moves so fast that she has no time to react. 

In an instant, he towers over her and takes her bare shoulders in a tight grip. His touch burns her skin, his hands warmer than the hot sand beneath her toes. 

Unaccustomed to such nearness, she places her palms on his chest, aiming to push him away. He changes his hold into a steely embrace, keeping her still. When her breasts flatten against the rough fabric of his cowl, an electrifying current traverses her entire body. 

Light dust glimmers in the air between them. Her prickling skin hums pleasantly under his touch, but in the depths of her chest her heart feels as heavy as lead. 

“We are meant to be together, Rey,” he murmurs, gazing intently at her upturned face.

To emphasise his meaning, he strokes gentle circles into her back. Her muscles tremble in response. His stare bores into her mind, searching for an answer that she can’t give. _He has definitely done this before, too_. 

To hide her confusion, she glares at him defiantly. “I’m not coming with you. I’m not leaving my home.”

“Home?” he snarls, baffled. “This is not your home. It’s only an illusion.”

“Really?” she quips. “And what’s your part in it?”

“Call me a monster, but I’m shattering it to pieces and taking you with me,” he barks impatiently and breaks his embrace, his warm hands back on her shoulders. 

Surprised by his outburst, she lowers her lashes and averts his eyes. His gloved hand follows the curvy arch of her collarbone. She observes how his light touch brushes the shining dust away, leaving a visible trail on her skin. 

_I'm an empty plane, and his finger is drawing a line, marking me as his own_. 

Her face hardens mulishly. Kriff him. He will never have her, the untouched virago of these wild desert places.

She stomps her feet violently on his boots and wriggles free of his grip, pushing him hard, her limbs suddenly strong and able. Her bolt succeeds when he reels back to find his balance. Now she can finally flee from the devastating grasp of this horrendously seductive man. 

“Wait–”

She hears his pleas behind her, along with his heavy footsteps, but she refuses to listen. 

She is all sand and light and fire, and the terrible fear inside her deceptively pliant body serves as fuel in her veins. Strong wind arises, carrying a sweet promise of freedom that speeds up her escape. The convor screams in the sky, and she runs until her soles bleed. 

Exhausted, she gasps for breath and winces when cold raindrops moisten her dry lips. She looks up at the rumbling skies that pour water upon her beloved lands, drowning her little kingdom under a grey deluge. Unsettling awareness nags her mind.

_It never rains in the desert. Not in real life._

* * *

THE NYMPH

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/dIFkzbK2ZoA)

She breathes in the rhythm of the ocean, the tranquil ebb and flow carrying her across liquid spaces. She used to dream of endless azure seas replacing her torrid yellow dunes, but never could she have imagined the true lure of the placid darkness of an underwater universe. It would be so easy to float in this soothing emptiness for eternity. 

She resists the urge to linger on and sink deeper into the vortex whirling invitingly below her bare feet. Something is stirring, awakening inside her, in the hollow where her heart lies. A compelling need to examine the source of this feeling forces her to seek a mounting current that will raise her to the surface. The vortex tries to halt her by intensifying its velvety suction, but it can’t hold her back. Not now, when she is implacable, resilient and strong.

Unrelenting willpower invigorates her. When her head bobs above the churning waves, water blurs her vision and she bumps her forehead painfully on a metallic structure. With great effort, she clings to a hunk of broken durasteel and hauls herself upon a long, bridge-like construction that sways precariously over the raging ocean. 

It looks like a wreckage of one the starships buried in the sands of time near her desert home. She blinks at the sight of this desolated sea world. _My kingdom is gone. Perhaps it was never more than a mirage in the horizon._

She faces the howling wind that whips her hair and incites monstrous waves to surge and snap her from both sides of the bridge. They don’t scare her, those angry beasts. _I should be the victorious fire in the battle of elements. I should divide the unruly air and shake the parched land and tame the moist sea so that they would all succumb to my will_. 

Her inner turmoil increases when her eyes wander over the ruins around her, noticing the marks of decay marring a gun turret at the far end of the bridge. _My little world was once like that old turret, so solid and impregnable. Now nature herself destroys my dreams, using them as playthings for these merciless winds_. 

She looks at the skies in exasperation and captures a glimpse of light behind a thin veil of drizzle. The chariot of the sun has just passed the midpoint of heaven, its muted rays galloping swiftly over fast-moving clouds. Rain sweeps away her futile wrath and leaves behind a sense of numbing emptiness. 

_Time goes by like a typhoon, and I’m all alone, surrounded by the debris following in its wake._

She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand when a sudden movement catches her attention from the corner of her eye. 

In utter amazement, she sees the man from the desert. He materialises on the bridge right after a gigantic wave has made yet another attempt to drown the feeble structure. His wet hair is glued to his forehead, and his black jacket clings to his wide chest. In the midst of the crashing waves, his dark figure appears like a solid rock. 

Wide-eyed, she observes him staring at her and knitting his brow in evident frustration. 

“Fuck, Rey, why do you have make these dreams so lurid?” he complains, brushing droplets of water from the tip of his long nose. “Can’t you ever show up in decent clothing?”

She throws a quick glance over her thin grey tunic, nearly transparent from the water, licking the contours of her body. In its soaked state, it leaves nothing to the imagination. She tilts her head back to meet his gaze. He looks the same, almost.

“You are not wearing your gloves,” she blurts out, admiring the way his rolled-up sleeves expose his sinewy arms. 

His eyes gleam at her somewhat illogical response. “Well, you are a slippery creature. Maybe I can catch you better with my bare hands.” 

The memory of his warm fingers trailing along her soft curves crosses her mind. She shivers with want. _I can’t afford to have these lustful feelings. I’m a fighter from harsh lands. Untouched, unbent, unmoved_. 

“Maybe I don’t desire to be caught,” she says vehemently.

He takes a careful step in her direction, offering her his hand very slowly, as if expecting her to bolt. “You don’t know who you are running away from. I can save you, Rey. I’m the only one who can.”

She stares at him, wondering how he can stand so tall and firm upon this unstable construction when she is constantly in danger of slipping back into the sea. 

_There are no monsters in these waters, but that man might devour my very soul if I allow him to hold me here, in this loneliest of places._

When she recoils, he drops his hand at his side and shoots her a sharp, warning look.

“Don’t.” His command carries over the wind. “By fleeing you just injure yourself. Look at your feet, your bruised forehead. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

His alarmed tone makes her halt. She notices her bloodied footsteps before the next wave washes them away.

“Who are you?” she whispers, her eyes wide and wary.

“I was once as lost as you are,” he answers quietly. “My mother was a princess, my father merely a smuggler. I wanted to run away from it all.” Something dreadful comes and goes in his expression. “Later, I was served by a group of fearsome knights, and I gave my allegiance to the dark side of the Force. Then I met you. And you and I…” The words die on his lips and he looks away, confusion marring his face. “You have to remember the rest yourself.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, striving to capture an image, a sound, anything that would help her to understand. 

A hot breath against her cheek in a menacing, pitch-black chamber. _I can take whatever I want_. A wisp of dark hair almost touching her face when she tries to pull herself away. _And now you'll give it to me_. She gasps. _Kriff_. Whatever happened between them surely didn’t end well on her part.

Her eyes fly open with a start. 

He stares at her unblinkingly when she fumbles for her waist to find the hilt of a weapon that hangs loosely on the belt loop of her tunic. This weapon is as familiar to her as is the sensation telling her that she truly doesn’t want to use it, not against him. Yet, she has no choice.

_I’m not your plaything. I’m the victorious fire_. 

Her fingers tremble slightly, but the glowing blue blade gives her courage. 

He doesn’t seem at all impressed by her brisk manoeuvre. Instead of drawing back, he stretches his hand in order to grab her arm. “Rey, don’t be rash–”

She rushes forwards, sweeping the blade and pointing its tip in his direction as a clear forewarning. “I’m not giving you anything.”

To her dismay, he looks only annoyed as he ignites his own red blade with one efficient swing of his hand and blocks her attacks easily. 

“I’m not asking for anything I wouldn’t give you myself,” he quips and maintains his level stare. 

As soon as his rapid advance forces her to retreat, she gets the humiliating impression that he’s not using his full strength to disarm her. She moves relentlessly like a rising wave, swiftly as a whistling wind, but her fire can’t burn down this rock-hard opponent, this stable centre governing all turbulent elements.

She knows she has lost the battle when her back is pressed against the gun turret and her arms are shaking badly in her vain attempt to parry his firm blows. Their crackling blades strike against each other, and she uses all her remaining energy to keep his steady weapon at bay. 

She looks up at his calm face, seeking signs of exhaustion. Finding none, she is captivated by his intense gaze. It stirs something at the back of her mind. A memory. A feeling. 

“Have we done this before?” she asks between ragged breaths.

His eyes bore into her mouth, his pupils black as a deep-sea abyss. The beam of his blade throws crimson shards of light as if he suddenly can’t hold the weapon straight enough.

“The fight, yes, but _this_ is something we both have yet been hesitant to try.”

At that, he bends over their crossed, sizzling lightsabers and captures her lips with ardor and longing. 

Her lashes flutter in sheer pleasure. He is a flame upon roaring waves, a burst of magma bubbling fiercely from its underwater source. His generous lips are wet and cold from the rain, but his mouth is fiery hot. Her lips part in response to this closest of kisses, this wildest of touches, yielding to him with a passion that seems to arise from her bodily depths.

Their tongues touch in a flash of shocking intimacy. They intertwine like two Pole-snakes mating under the burning midday sun. Her lips open wider to receive his invasion and she gasps for breath. His mouth against hers seems equally desperate to cling to her as if his life would depend upon this carnal connection between their searching tongues. As if he would never let her go.

The rain falls down on her blushed face as she floats in the sensation. At the same time, her heart is throbbing uncontrollably inside its cage between her ribs. It seems like a feral creature, squirming and aching in agony when it strives to break free from its bodily prison. She thinks she could die of this violent pain that reaves her chest, robbing her of her fiery resistance. 

_If I smoulder any further, I’ll become ashes in his bare hands_.

She wrenches her lips away and tilts her head up to look at him. “Is this a rescue operation?”

He doesn’t seem so composed anymore, not when his swollen lips twitch and his hooded eyes glisten with desire.

His voice comes out in a husky whisper. “It is.”

She forces herself to sound cool and nonchalant, hiding her nerve-racking discomfort behind a mask of feigned aloofness. “You don’t seem to be good at it. Not if you kill us both.”

He flinches, a pang of hurt casting a shadow over his flushed features. 

“Fuck,” he mutters and lowers his lightsaber abruptly. 

Wind growls savagely when he whirls around in anger, takes a couple of measured strides to the edge of the bridge and throws his humming weapon like a worthless sacrifice to the hungry waves. He looks lost when he turns to her again. 

A sickening nausea burns her throat. She knows that desperate look, his eyes pleading, his parted lips forming a trembling curve. He has given it to her once before, in this same place, when the bloodthirsty ocean last cheered on their fatal duel. She has this ominous feeling that she is about to commit a heinous act, a murder, which she would regret the rest of her life. 

_Maybe I killed him before. But now I can make a different choice_. 

She takes a careful step to the other side of the bridge, keeping her eyes on his suddenly alert face. She sees him, hates him, wants him. It’s all too much. Whether dream or reality, she can’t continue living inside this recurring loop of their mad, excruciating encounters. 

She needs to change this pattern, change herself.

“Rey, don’t–”

She pays no attention to his shocked voice. Determinedly, she thrusts the blue blade into her left abdomen, and the ensuing dizziness causes her to lose her balance. 

When she falls backwards into the sea, she can hear him calling her name over and over again, in the rhythm of the waves. An echo of a splash rings in her head, then a pair of warm hands grabs her by her midsection. Water melts into foam that resembles crushed petals. She closes her eyes in wonder. 

_I never expected death to be this white._

* * *

THE IMAGO

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/7iJHEkRSMSk)

Unbearable lightness engulfs her. A white glow fills her lungs, calming her racing pulse. She is weightless and free, sprawling in the air beneath a canopy of heart-shaped leaves. Under her curious gaze, these emerald tresses of the wood begin to shake as if the Force itself animates them with the touch of invisible fingers. _So much greenery. And it all grows around me, inside me_. 

She feels the impulse to move beyond the leafy coverture. A breeze greets her with a merry blow, and the loose sleeves of her white robe billow around her like wings. Her ascent through the layers of foliage delights her as each of the green leaf hearts plant a kiss on her cheek. The shattered pieces of her own heart seem to be healing back together.

Unhurriedly, she savours the feeling of being safe and loved and grateful in this serene bower of nature. She smiles gently at the memory of her former, younger selves who never knew such peace in their constant struggle for existence. Why would she fear, why would she run? Her fierce fight against the current of life has transformed into a purer flame of understanding. _I’m moulded from the same matter as the elements. I survive by surrendering, bending, floating. Like this._

The rosy heavens broaden above her. She wants to rise higher into the sky, to seek the fiery chariot of the day, but its rider has already steered the vehicle towards the unreachable brim of the western horizon. 

Her smile dies on her lips when she glances over the verdant landscape bathed in the slowly fading sunlight. Glittering waves crumble against the ruins of an ancient castle, a surging gale rips away the cordate leaves.

_This terrain is not mine to rule. It belongs to the realms of time and nature_. 

The realisation tastes foul in her mouth. Yet, she is now mature enough to accept the inevitable law of entropy. Everything is bound to decline into disorder in the eternal cycle of birth and decay.

A radiant beam of light dazzles her eyes, her entire body shaking suddenly in tremors. The sun shines ever more brightly in the sky, making its last attempt to keep its waning hold over the soils it has loved so fervently throughout the long day. She, too, feels the need to reach something she craves, to flare just once, right now, before the creeping eastern night buries this world in purple shades.

She remembers. Glimpses of dreamy visions touch her mind tentatively, asking her to trust. 

Her arms drop, and she allows herself to fall passively, freely, her chest tilted towards the heavens. The cooling air buzzes in her ears when she spins down, without fear. _All I have to do is dream._

_Of him–_

He grunts when he grabs her mid-air before she hits the ground. “Another suicide mission?”

She stares at him silently, noticing the lines of worry tarrying at the corners of his eyes. A sense of guilt overflows her. Then she shakes her head. “No. I knew you would catch me. You rescued me from those waves.”

His bare hands slide beneath her knees and her shoulders, and he tightens his hold on her. She shivers, thinking of the last time he carried her like this, of the sensations she can’t recall. 

“I said I would save you,” he says in a flat tone. “Why did you do it?”

She tries to ignore the vibration that his low voice arouses under her skin. The words don’t come easily as she keeps her gaze on his troubled face. “I was young and impetuous and I… I had to change.”

He scowls when his eyes wander across her body nestled securely in his arms. “And you had to make it happen by hurting yourself again.”

She blinks at the sight of an angry wound on her left side, just above her waist. It is a raw cut, its burned edges still bleeding. How strange that it doesn’t pain her at all. 

He lowers himself quickly and steadies her back against his kneeled thighs, placing his palm upon the open wound. She gasps as his Force energy flows into her system and heals the broken tissues. Even the crimson stain on her white robe disappears under his touch.

She watches him in awe when he pulls her to her feet and then lets her go. They face each other on mossy ground under the mellow dimness of greenwood trees. The forest is silent, except for the heart-shaped leaves that rustle softly as they fall. 

He stands so tall above her, waiting, his long face unreadable. 

_He fears that I’ll run away from him, again._

She has to swallow a lump in her throat. “Thank you for healing me. Thank you for being with me, here.” 

He nods and glances over the heavy tree trunks that seem to rise as high as heavens, enclosing them both inside this intimate tapestry of subdued greens, earthy browns and misty greys. 

“Yes, I suppose that this is the place where we first met.” His gaze falls back on her, and his lips curl into a wry smile. “When you first wanted to kill me.”

She blushes, but her eyes don’t waver from his face. “Well. I was scared then. But I’ve grown up. I’m not afraid of monsters anymore.” 

His unblinking stare petrifies her more efficiently than his past Force tricks ever did. “Could we just forget the monsters? I would rather be the man I was always meant to be.”

Her breathing halts in anticipation, her tongue feels almost paralysed in her mouth. 

“And who are you meant to be?” she manages to whisper.

His voice is not too steady, either, as he gives her that solemn, earnest look whereby he seems to lay his soul under her feet.

“Yours, Rey. Yours, if you have me.”

Eyes wide and moistened, she offers him her hand.

“Yes. I do. Come.”

He takes it, twining their fingers together, and pulls her against his chest. She whimpers when he bends her pliant body backwards into a deep, searing kiss. Her heart feels like it’s bursting, being almost unable to absorb the sheer enormity of this mixture of gratitude and love. _For this must be love._ She smiles against his mouth. _Yes, we will never be lonely again, not ever, as long as our minds and bodies stay together as one._

Suddenly, the light breeze playing around them turns into a whirlwind. The Force raises them from the ground, propelling them upwards, and there’s no longer the need for her to stand on her tiptoes to meet the caresses of his plush lips. 

As they fly above the trees in each other’s arms, the last leafy hearts fall dawn, curling up and dissolving into white dust.

She embraces him tightly, but the steady beating of his heart against her cheek cannot dispel her growing anxiety. The happiness she feels has nearly lulled her into forgetting the late hour of the day. 

The first hues of pale indigo forecast the rapid approach of the gloaming. She sees the sphere of the sun sink towards the western horizon, its journey almost ended, while a crowd of evening stars ignites the constellations of the east. Her gaze anchors on the twinkling lights. 

_Those celestial bodies will rise and set again on their never-ending ride across the orbit, but for us, for the creatures in human forms, there might not be another firmament. Only the sleep of eternal night._

Sensing her melancholy, he cups her chin in his warm hand.

“Why do you cry?” he asks quietly, tracing the line of her mouth with his gentle thumb.

She can’t tear her eyes away from the evening sky. “Are you waiting for me?”

His finger stops at the curve of her lower lip. “Where?”

The sky flames in thousand shades of purple and gold. “There, in some far world beyond the sunset, beyond the lands of the death, will you catch me if I fall?” 

He stares at her sombrely, clearly struggling to keep a stoic face for her sake.

“Rey, I don’t think that you are there yet. There’s still life in you.” His clenched jaw betrays a feeling she can’t comprehend. “But yes, I’ll be there for you. In all those places.”

“Take me as you found me today,” she whispers against his neck. “In the desert.”

His back stiffens under the spread of her fingers.

She keeps her touch firm.“Take me now. Please.”

His little smile is slightly mischievous although the look in his eyes is deep as a grave. “Here, in the air?”

She nods, scanning the horizon with a frown. “Yes, before the brief light dies.”

Fingers shaking, he unhooks her robe and reveals her nudity to his revering gaze. His short laughter sounds almost like a sob. “I seem destined to find you in the most impractical situations. Starting from your recent choice of clothing.”

“True,” she says hoarsely while her eager hands fumble over the collar of his jacket and the waistband of his trousers. “But luckily I do have the most practical man.”

With a needy moan, he presses his mouth savagely against hers. 

She gasps in pleasure when he claims the expanse of her shimmering skin by caressing the valley between her breasts, the plane of her belly and the ridges of her curved hips. _Yes, he's the conqueror of my secret places, the discoverer of these hidden passages_. 

The softness of his mouth and the rough texture of his hands create an unbearable tension that pours out in shivers from her deepest core. He is so smooth and hard, this man of smoky eyes and sharp angles, and she yearns to cover him everywhere, to feel how their bodies melt together at the end of this fiery exploration.

When he bends himself down to suck her nipple, her head lolls lazily from side to side. From the corner of her eye she sees the lake directly below them, the last orange rays of the setting sun refracting back and forth by its serene surface. The air quivers as they fly three circles over the castle ruins before returning to the shade of the forest.

All those short moments they have together he loves her, kissing her with his mouth and tongue, caressing her with his hands. It is like their nuptial dance, this up-and-down movement that makes her head spin and eyes blur. _It's all too beautiful_. 

The sensual cavity between her legs seems to swell and moisten with every stroke of his mouth that continues its deepening invasion upon her body. _I’m no longer an empty plane_. She wraps her legs around his waist, bending, surrounding, willing. His erection touches her sex, and she moans. Her bright-eyed desire culminates when he enters her with one careful thrust, filling her all the way to her pounding heart. 

She collapses, her body convulsing as quicksand, and cradles him in her arms. 

They hover in the air, her back against a tree trunk, sharing this delicate moment of intimacy when the joined organ binds them together as one. Her heart beats strongly, calmly, emanating golden light in the afterglow of their lovemaking. 

His mouth brushes over her ear. “Remember me.” 

She nods, her eyes turning watery. “I do and I will.”

His voice comes out almost inaudible, thick with emotion. “Be with me, Rey.” 

She is not sure if he can hear her since the darkness is closing in on her, but she gives her answer as loud as she can. “Always.”

Their intimate connection is severed as soon as her vision becomes blinded by grey bark. In a blink of an eye, she vanishes completely into the tree behind her.

_Yes, it was all only an illusion, made of the intricate fabric of my dreams_.

* * *

THE INSTAR

[ Songspiration ](https://youtu.be/70MF-Eyqu94)

Her translucent form materialises soundlessly out of a trunk of a shimmering tree. She wrinkles her nose, her face covered with shining light dust. The heavy scent of rotting flowers sickens her. A spring murmurs in the grove below, and a hooded figure bends over the water, gazing attentively at its purple depths. 

She wants to descend, but invisible energy keeps her immobile in the air. She can only watch. The tall figure shivers and turns slowly around, leaving the susurrating copse of trees and heading for the bleak fields of the timeless Netherworld. Silvery leaves tinkle softly as he goes.

Inexplicable terror makes her resist the pull of the Force. Arms stretched, she manages to flutter closer to the dark pool. There, amid the rippling waves, she sees two white petals floating in the darkness like butterflies, their wings spread wide, their flight ended in eternal night. 

The air above the grove begins to hum. She looks up sharply. There is a vortex in the grey sky, formed by a crowd of grumbling clouds. While she stares at this portal of the heavens, it grows stronger and drags her into its whirling depths.

_Is this my final death or–_

Consciousness animates her inert body with a flash. Her head hurts when the sight returns gradually into her glazed eyes. Dim blue light illuminates the collapsed hall and broken statues, the crumbling legacy of her grandfather’s evil ambitions. The citadel is empty, clothed with night’s black curtains. And yet she sees someone beneath these archaic vaults.

It’s him, again. 

She raises herself quickly as his arm steadies her from behind. Her eyes caress his face. He has the same, unfathomable look in his obsidian eyes. But she thinks she can comprehend it now. 

_He loves me. Truly and fiercely, like he did in the air_.

She stares at him. The ominous sensation of standing at the edge of death plagues her still, yet her lips curve into a blissful, welcoming smile.

“Ben.”

* * *

FINIS

NOTES

Ephemeron is another name for [mayfly](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mayfly). In a wider cultural context, it is an old symbol for the shortness of life

I have taken two images of river for my moodboard from Gustave Doré's (1832-1883) artwork that visualises Dante's _Divine Comedy _. The engravings represent[The Eunoe](https://www.wikiart.org/en/gustave-dore/the-eunoe) and [Terrestrial Paradise](https://www.wikiart.org/en/gustave-dore/terrestrial-paradise).__

For a general conceptualisation of the mythical underworld in the Greco-Roman lore, see Vergil's _[Aeneid](https://www.theoi.com/Text/VirgilAeneid6.html) _6: 268-751.__

Ameles potamos is another name for [Lethe](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lethe), the River of Unmindfulness.

For Ovid's depiction of the cavern of Sleep and its Lethean waters, see his _[Metamorphoses](https://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidMetamorphoses11.html#8) _11: 592-615.__

The words that Rey hears by the river are inspired by an Orphic inscription found from [Petelia Gold Tablet](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petelia_Gold_Tablet) (c. 200-300 BC).

[Embryo](https://www.definitions.net/definition/embryo) signifies, among other things, an organism in the early stages of growth and the first stage of anything.

For Ovid's tale of the Sun god Apollo who seeks in vain to reach his beloved Daphne, see _[Metamorphoses](https://www.theoi.com/Text/OvidMetamorphoses1.html#6) _1: 452-567.__

[Convorees](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Convor) are a species of bird that have a strong connection to the Force.

Steelpeckers, crickets, skittermice and Pole-snakes represent species of [Jakkuan](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jakku) fauna.

[Nymph](https://www.definitions.net/definition/nymph) signifies an insect with an incomplete metamorphosis and a young female deity who inspires lustful feelings.

[Imago](https://www.definitions.net/definition/imago) signifies the final adult, usually winged, state of an insect and an idealised concept of a loved one.

[Instar](https://www.definitions.net/definition/instar) signifies an insect between two successive moults or developmental stages. In more archaic English, it is also a verb; 'to adorn with stars'.

MUSIC FROM SONGSPIRATIONS

1) _[Vide Cor Meum](https://youtu.be/DRsnMGA5H1k) _(See my heart),__ an aria produced by Patrick Cassidy and Hans Zimmer for the film _Hannibal_ (2001).

2) _[Lux Aeterna](https://youtu.be/NiGfXpWt3dk) _(Eternal light),__ an orchestral composition by Clint Mansell for the film _Requiem for a Dream_ (2000).

3) _[Como Vorrei](https://youtu.be/_Smqz6_0ibk) _(How much I would like), an orchestral composition (1982) featuring the saxophonist Fausto Papetti. The black and white desert landscape used in the video is amazing.__

4) _[Marry Me](https://youtu.be/dIFkzbK2ZoA) _, a musical theme composed__ by Hans Zimmer for the film _Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_ (2003). The sound effect of rain used in the video fits so well with the theme of churning waves.

5) _[Dance For Me Wallis](https://youtu.be/7iJHEkRSMSk) _, a musical__ theme composed by Abel Korzeniowski for the film _W.E._ (2011). I love this hauntingly beautiful ballet animation used in the video.

6) _[For Love One Can Die](https://youtu.be/70MF-Eyqu94) _, a musical__ theme composed by Ennio Morricone for the film _D'amore si muore_ (1972). The forest imagery used in the video is really stunning.


End file.
